I let out a half-laugh, half-choke that sounded more like a dying cat.
Nope, nope, nope.
I pressed my palms flat against the tile and let my forehead rest between them.
What the hell was I thinking?I wasn’t cut out for this.I wasn’t Jack.Or Liam.Or Nico, with his cocky smirk and perfect everything.I wasn’t sexy or charming or even… experienced.
I mean, yeah, I’d fooled around with a few guys in school.Fumbled through a handful of awkward hookups that usually ended with one of us apologizing or pretending we had an early morning shift.Hell, me and Liam made out once, but it felt like I was doing it with my brother.
I’d never been in a genuine relationship.Never been the guy someone looked at and thought, Yeah, I want him.And now I was supposed to strip down, get hard on command, and look like I was loving it...with lights and cameras and people watching?A full-body wave of dread washed over me, heavier than the water pounding down on my back.
I couldn’t do this.
I just...couldn’t.
There had to be something else.Some other job out there that didn’t involve me becoming an online punchline.
I’d go over to the Boys On Film office like I promised.I wasn’t a total coward, and I’d face Liam and Jack like an adult.Thank them for the opportunity, tell them I appreciated it...and then let them down.
They’d understand.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
God, I hoped they wouldn’t hate me for it.
I shut off the water, standing there dripping and shivering for a second before forcing myself to grab the towel and dry off.
By the time I headed back to my bunk to change, I had a speech half-formed in my head.
Clear.Polite.Grateful.
Thanks guys, but I’m just not cut out for this.Best of luck with the company.No hard feelings.
Yeah.That sounded adult.Responsible.Like someone who had boundaries.
I shoved on jeans and a clean t-shirt, stuffed my damp towel back in my bag, and grabbed my phone.It was almost eleven.Plenty of time to get there by noon.
The second I pushed open the front door of the hostel, I wanted to turn around and go right back inside, because there she was.
Riley Vega.
Leaning against the brick wall like she owned the block.Arms crossed over her chest, foot tapping like a countdown clock.
My stomach dropped straight to my shoes.
Shit.
I hadn’t seen her since before the arrest.Back when life had been simpler.You know… just low-level drug dealing and pretending I had it all under control.Now she was here, looking at me like I was already five minutes late for my execution.
She straightened up when she spotted me, black hoodie shifting enough to reveal the tattoo winding up her forearm.There was something about her, like she could either help you move a couch or bury a body, and you’d never be quite sure which until it was too late.
“Morning, Mitchell,” she said, voice cool and syrupy like she was enjoying this a little too much.
I froze mid-step, debating whether to bolt.
Too late.
